The Lord shall send the latter rains,
the golden leaves descend to the ground.
The clouds give way their rainfall,
and the water puddles around.
The chill of the air and winds that blow,
causes cap and coats to be donned.
the summer plants have shriveled up,
and lie limp around the pond.
The Lord has changed the landscape,
and we are drawn to the comfort of home
No longer do we work outside,
no longer abroad do we roam.
Yet we think of the great harvest,
the abundant supply of this year,
We laud and extol our Father
whose care allays our fear.
© by Paul H. Leaman
This writing may be used in its entirety, with credits in tact,
for non-profit ministering purposes.
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